THE ROMANCE OF THE HIGH SEAS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 229, 27 September 1930, Page 6 (Supplement)

THE ROMANCE OF THE HIGH SEAS.

SALVAGE TREASURE AND THE FRIGATE'S ' ■ QUEST. ' ■

(By FRANK BISSON.)

Had it not been that he stood within the portals of that most holy of holies, the , office of Sir Richard Bickerton, Admiral Commanding-in-Chief at Portsmouth, Captain 'Hercules Robinson, of His Majesty's jackass-frigate Prometheus, might —nay certainly would —have vented liis disappointment and annoyance in the emphatic manner that became his rank and his day. He had been summoned from his late breakfast at the Crown Hotel opposite, where the captains of the ships fitting out—as was the Prometheus —and those which had been temporarily relieved from the strain of maintaining the strangling blockade His Majesty had ordered to be kept on Bonaparte's coast, had a noisy, scrambling mess to themselves. Anticipating nothing but the best of news, he had left his breakfast to cool, and followed the Admiral's messenger hotfoot. Captain Hercules thought—and others' opinions counted little against his own — that he had ample cause to be very dissatisfied with his treatment by my Lords. While others had had their full share of glory and prize-money, he had been assigned to the harassing duty of convoying stupid merchantmen to and from the Baltic. Anything more obnoxious to one of his temperament —highspirited, impulsive, brave to the point of rashness —could scarcely have been imagined. His own Prometheus, built at Souths ampton in 1807, would, as he assured his fellow captains, neither wear nor steer, jior tack nor stand up. But he admitted that she was a good sea boat and, he added, one might say the same of a rum cask bung. Her breadth —30ft—to a. gundeck length of no more than 114 ft, gave her the look and gait of a market-fed duck, a rare craft, surely, to tackle the swirling tides of the Cattegat and hold together a convoy of dun--der-headed colliers and timber drogers little better equipped to manoeuvre in such dangerous waters than so many dumb barges! New Work for the Prometheus. Ordered down to Portsmouth to refit, le had taken advantage of the spell to solicit the good offices of his friend Sir George Hope, a wise, cool and famous officer, who was held in high esteem by those about the Court, with a view to the obtaining of some more congenial employment in the blockade; or at least, ■with the cruising fleet that hunted Boney's transports when and where they iound them. And the answer to his request was, it seemed, in his hand. Admiral Sir Richard, knowing well his man, refrained from adding insult to injury by offering anything in tlie way of congratulation to Captain Hercules. Instead, he tactfully stared out of his great window at the busy and varied life of the naval port for, at least, five silent minutes. Then, turning when he judged that the hot-headed Irishman would have had time to swallow his mortification, he found him still staring at the disconcerting missive. It ran:— "Admiralty, January 23, 1913. —The enclosed, which are left open for perusal, will explain to you the purpose of sending the Prometheus to Madeira. I believe there is not the least-truth in the story, and that the treasure island and all are visionary. But my Lord Liverpool and Mr. Vansittart - think it worth while to make a trial of the thing, as it can be done without any great inconvenience. Will you, therefore, have the goodness to have the man sent in the Prometheus to Madeira? This package is left unsealed that the captain may know the history of these people and the object of the voyage.—J. W. Croker." Waiting until the suffusion of blood ebbed in Captain Hercules' face, SirRichard inquired: "Well, Captain Robinson, how soon shall you start ?" "When you please, sir." Captain Hercules swrJlowed his wrath for good and all, and became the King's officer to "whom all orders are unquestionable. "The coppering's about finished —" "I shall instruct the Dockyard Superintendent to see that everything is attended to for you. In the meantime you had better see this man Cruise." Two Million Dollars. Sir Richard tinkled a bell that stood •within reach. His secretary ushered in an old, tidily-dressed man, who bore all the signs of saltag'e in his weathered face. Something about him proclaimed the foreigner. "This, Captain Robinson, is the man, Christian Cruise, referred to in Mr. Secretary's letter." "Yes, Sir Richard, I have seen the cman before. Was he not hanging about outside your office for some hours, say, a fortnight ago ?" "Yes. That is so. Your observation does you credit. This, then, is his story, as I understand it. There is treasure buried—two millions of dollars, no less —somewhere in the Salvages. You know them, of course?" "Yes, Sir Richard, indifferently. , They ar9 seldom visited. May I ask by whom this treasure was buried ? By this man?" "No. He comes by his information second-hand. It is some story he has heard from a dying man—a shipmate in quite another vessel to the one concerned with the burial of these dollars— that has taken the fancy of My Lords. Like Mr. Secretary and, I surmise, yourself, I think it a pity to waste the time of a King's $hip on so scatter-brained a venture. But," "Captain, we shall'carry out our orders. Cruise, you""will' relate to Captain Robinson how you came into possession of this information." . Christian Cruise, who had been standing without earshot, approached respectfully, and- touched his forelock in the clumsy way of merchant seamen. , ou bad better submit him to question—or shall I? I think we shall get £ .to the kernel of things much sooner that way." "Pray you, Sir Richard, question him. I may gather more from his answers than from his narrative." Now, Cruise, this ship in which you became possessed of information you sent to My Lords of the Admiralty what was her name?" "D'Margaretta, y're honor." Cruise's thin beard was agitated by his confusion. In such quarters, and in such company, he felt -his .inferiority.

"Of Esberg, y're honor. I was free voyages in her to d'West Indies. Dere was a feller dere named Oniga. A sailor he was, same watch as me. He took d'yella fever in Santa Cruz, and dey sent him ashore to d'hospital. I took it mineself before d' ship left, and dey sent me ashore too. The Spaniard's Story. "I was pu'; into d' next bed to d' Spaniard, Oniga—anyhow, y're honors, I was dere when I came to, weeks after. I saw Oniga next to me, but I didn't kr.ow it was him till he spoke. ,He was noddings but bones and skin. I could see he was slipping his anchor very soon. When things was quiet that night he told me about the dollars." In ISO 4, the Spaniard had whispered, he was a seaman on a Spanish ship; They had made a long cruise 011 the South American coast. When their cargo was all shipped, and the anchor ready for raising, a Government launcha had towed off, and put on board twenty chests of dollars, each containing one hundred thousand. When it was secured in the lazaretto, the ship got under way for Cadiz. They had reached xo within 500 leagues of their port when they met and boarded a Portuguese. To their uneasiness they learned that war had been declared between England and Spain. A line of frigates stretched from Trafalgar to Finisterre. The English blockade was impassable. Four great galleons that had tried to ...break through had fallen into their hands. The captain of Oniga's ship determined to run no risk of capture by the vigilant English cruisers. After considering and rejecting- the plan of returning to his port of departure and waiting until peace was declared, he decided to run for.the Spanish Main, or to some neutral island in the West Indies. The crew, however, were of another mind. Believing that the speed of their vessel would enable her to show a clean pair of heels to the unwieldy English patrol, and enable her to escape where the fat sows of galleons had proved easy prey, they insisted on holding the course. Then, too, the bright eyes at Cadiz drew them, weary as they were with the long and toilsome voyage. These sentiments they voiced, clamorously and insistently. A Swift, Keen Knife. But despite the risk, of mutiny, the Spanish captain maintained his authority. The ship's head was turned again to the west and a course set that would carry them well south of Madeira. A week's steady sailing found them near the Salvages; high, inhospitable, clearly uninhabited. The chance seemed too good to miss. A swift, keen knife put an end to the captain's opposition. The primero piloto was with them, body and soul. Under his conning they sailed into a snug litle bay on the east side of Great Salvage and. dropped their anchor in twelve fathoms. A boat was launched. The first mate and his associates were rowed ashore. Landing on a broad beach, they climbed the cliffs and surveyed the 6eas around them. Nothing save the myriad sea fowl that made the flat top of Great Salvage their breeding-place was to be seen. But as they . brushed their way through the barrila weed that covered the tableland hundreds of rabbits darted to left and right of their track. Wafer, too, they found; not in great quantities, but sufficient to replenish their butts at the cost of a little, trouble. The chests of treasure, were opened on their return. ; Each took as much as he desired. The . remainder, they decided, had better be -.hidden, lest some English or American raider might chance that .way and deprive honest men of their own. The "Treasure Buried. A .great trench was! cut in the sand at high-water mark. In it the chests were buried. On them was laid the body i of the dead commander. The scar was filled -again and levelled flat. A week of feasting on fowl, rabbit and easilycaught fish followed. Then, with the inconsistency of their kind, they decided that, after all, their late capitan had been right. - Where the captain had been unable to persuade them that the risk of attempting to run the English blockade was madness, the mate succeeded. They agreed, in full council, to run to the West Indies, fire the ship within reach of some friendly island, and after her destruction and their safe landing, pool the money they were taking with them for the purchase of a handy vessel. Then, under .the. safety of the accursed English flag, they could return- and retrieve the treasure at their ease. This plan—or, at least, as much of it as Providence permitted—they followed. With the help .of the trade wind they sighted Tobago. Then the devil, their master, took a hand in the game that had run so smoothly. A hurricane arose. Scudding under bare poles, the ship found land again—this time a submerged reef, that ripped the bottom out of her. Satan claimed all his own but two. These were found floating on a hen coop by negro fishers and taken into St. Thomas. Satan claimed one of the remaining two. The survivor— Christian Cruise's fever-ward mate— joined a Danish ship there and sailed under the Dane's ensign until Yellow Jack seized him. He gasped his last as he was about to confide the name of the Spanish ship to Cruise, and the devil's tally was complete. (To be continued next Saturday.)